I’d reached Justin when Hermes let out a terrifying bellow.
“Harpies!”
I spotted one of the hideous bird creatures diving toward me. It was too close, and I had nowhere to go. I was the perfect target, immobile and totally helpless. Its talons raked against my back, and I let out a scream of pain. I swung dangerously--but, miraculously, my grip didn’t break, and neither did Justin’s or Apollo’s.
I couldn’t tell how badly injured I was. I hoped desperately that I wouldn’t lose enough blood to weaken me. I needed every ounce of strength to hold on.
My powers were useless. Like all the monsters we’d faced, harpies rode the line between mortals and animals, making them immune to my powers. Once again, our enemy had picked the perfect weapon at the perfect time. Further proof they were using magick to spy on us.
I couldn’t fight. I had to try to escape. But the harpy wasn’t alone. Its flockmates were circling and cackling. That attack had just been a test. Now, one by one, they began to dive toward us. This time, they’d kill me.
Several blades whirled through the air. One narrowly missed a harpy, forcing it to veer away from Apollo. Another knife struck a harpy deep in the chest. Inches from Justin’s face, it fell, spiraling down to the ground below.
The other harpies flew back up, shrieking and cursing. I lifted my head to see Artemis at the window, knives in each hand, eyes carefully judging distance.
She could buy us time, but there were more harpies than knives--and the next time, the harpies would be ready for her. And there were still pythons inside to worry about. Sarah couldn’t block them forever.
“Drop!” Hermes shouted.
“It’s too far!” I yelled back, eyeing the distance.
“We don’t have a choice,” Justin said. “If you don’t, you’ll die.”
And so will you, I thought to myself.
If I dropped, I might be saved. Assuming that Hermes could catch me, that Demeter could maneuver the tree, and that I didn’t fall totally wrong. An awful lot of assumptions. But no other choices. With me gone, the harpies would have to concentrate their attacks, and it’d be easier for Artemis to pick them off. Justin might even have enough time to scramble back into the apartment and help fight.
There was no other choice.
I let go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I fell. The air rushed past me. I felt a heady mix of fear and exhilaration. My mind flashed back to the Dreamlands, to falling off the spire. I half-expected to feel Justin’s arms around me, to see his crimson eyes burning into my soul.
I hit something hard.
“My queen?” Hermes gasped.
I’d landed in his arms. He was kneeling on the platform; the momentum of my fall had driven him to his knees.
Above me, I saw Demeter’s strained face and shaking hands. She’d pushed her powers to the limit to shift the tree for me. She was exhausted. She wouldn’t be able to do that again.
Hermes set me down, as Demeter bent to pull Justin into the apartment. Apollo still hung out the window.
The harpies swooped down, splitting off into three groups. Several harpies rushed at Apollo, others dove at Demeter, Justin and Artemis, and the last group sped directly at Hermes and me.
In a surprising display of strength, Hermes snapped off two hefty branches from the tree and twirled them in his hands.
I heard the war screeches of the harpies as the first of them arrived. But Hermes was ready. He struck, his sticks like lightning, his arms moving with fluid grace despite the fact that I’d landed in them only a minute or two before. He was a whirlwind of branches. Blood and feathers flew around me. By the time he stopped moving, the last harpy was pulling away, screeching in fury.
Hermes fell to his knees, exhausted. The branches dropped from his hands. He was bleeding.
I rushed to his side. Though Hermes had beaten back the harpies, there’d been too many. His chest and arms were covered in ugly-looking gashes. Ignoring the pain in my back, I tore the shirt I was wearing into strips and did my best to bind his cuts.
He pushed me away weakly.
“Run, my queen,” he panted. “You might . . . be able to escape before they come back.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I snapped. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to,” he insisted.
“I’m not leaving,” I replied bluntly.
“Better you live . . . than all of us die,” he said.
“No one is going to die,” I shot back. “Now shut up before I kill you myself.”
Hermes laughed. But there was a rattle in the sound that worried me. We needed Apollo.
I grabbed the branches Hermes had dropped, wincing as I pulled the fresh scratches on my back. I was nowhere near as skilled as Hermes, but I’d put up one hell of a fight. No one was better at that than me.
Four of the harpies dove at us again. One seemed to wobble as it flew; Hermes must’ve injured it. I smiled. I’d be able to finish off that one, at least.
I braced myself. But as the harpies neared, they pulled up at the last minute. They were attacking from as high as possible, making it almost impossible for me to reach them. Still, one was almost within striking range . . .
And then it dropped to the platform, crushed under Justin. It twitched several times and then went still.
The remaining harpies scattered in confusion, trying to see where Justin had come from. I didn’t hesitate. I leapt as high as I could and lashed out ferociously, smashing one of the harpies’ wings. It made a loud snapping sound, and the harpy shrieked in pain, as it desperately tried to flap its broken wing. Instead, it plunged downward and out of sight.
“Justin, we need Apollo,” I said.
Justin pointed up. Apollo was suspended in midair above us, doing battle with a harpy. Standing like he was on solid ground, Apollo fought with elegance, his strikes precise instead of forceful. He struck every vulnerability imaginable: eyes, throat, temples. The harpy collapsed, writhing, and he calmly kicked it away. It rolled, as if it was on some kind of invisible floor, and then toppled down to the ground far below.
Beside Apollo was Demeter, who’d encircled a harpy with her belt and was brutally choking the flapping creature. When it was weak enough, she twisted violently, snapping its neck and tossing the body away.
Beth was with them, swinging a knife wildly, trying to keep two harpies at bay. What she lacked in training, she made up for in terrified frenzy. Even so, the harpies dodged her clumsy swipes easily. They were closing in.
On hands and knees next to Beth was Sarah, face contorted in agony, shaking violently. She must’ve created a horizontal barrier so they could all jump out of the apartment and escape the pythons. But supporting all that weight was draining her fast. Really fast.
I didn’t spot Artemis at first. But then I saw a great scaled creature on the window ledge, belching flame at the harpies still circling in the air. Several caught fire. They screamed as they tried to get away, before crashing to the ground. The other harpies wheeled away from the building as fast as they could. They were retreating!
The edge of the building began to crumble under Artemis’s weight. Flapping her massive wings, she took to the air as the ledge gave way. Then she turned and unleashed another torrent of fire into the apartment. It exploded into flames.
With another flap of her huge, leathery wings, Artemis soared into the sky. She roared once, and then, before my eyes, she convulsed and reverted to her mortal form. Artemis hung in the air, shock plain on her face. And then she plummeted.
Before I could cry out, her body twisted and shrank, becoming a small bird. She spiraled down and landed gently on the platform. Then she spasmed again, the bird’s body rippling and contorting back into her mortal form. Artemis lay on the platform, body heaving, eyes wild with pain.
Sarah cried out and collapsed, unconscious. Her barrier vanished. Demeter, Beth, Apollo, and Sarah dropped.
Justin ran and caught Sarah, but t
he rest of them smashed into the platform, which creaked ominously.
“A dragon?” I demanded. “You could have killed yourself.”
Artemis smiled weakly. “Desperate . . . times. . .”
She rolled onto her side and spat out blood. A lot of blood.
“Just be glad there’s a cloak around the building,” Demeter said, stroking Artemis’s hair.
“Harpies . . . wouldn’t have attacked . . . without one,” Artemis replied.
“This tree won’t hold,” Justin interjected, eyeing the platform. The branches were beginning to bend ominously, and every time someone shifted their weight, I heard a cracking sound.
“Let’s move,” I said.
We filed off the platform and down the tree. Justin, with Sarah slung over his shoulder. Then Beth. Demeter lingered to help Artemis, who could barely stand on her own.
Apollo was busy healing Hermes, though his eyes never left his sister as Demeter helped her down. He worked as quickly as he could, but when I saw the platform starting to split, I squeezed his shoulder. We were out of time.
Apollo reluctantly pulled himself away. He bent to help Hermes up, but almost fell over. I gently shoved him towards the trunk of the tree. He was in no condition to help anybody but himself. It’d be a miracle if he even made it out of the tree on his own.
I helped Hermes to his feet. He leaned heavily on me. When we reached the edge of the platform, Justin was there. He grabbed Hermes and hauled him down the tree as quickly and carefully as he could.
Below, I saw Demeter, sweating profusely, arching her fingers and twisting her hands, adjusting the branches to help them.
I was halfway down the tree when I heard a deafening tearing sound. The platform split and crashed to the ground, shattering and flinging jagged splinters in all directions. I clung to the trunk as it passed me, feeling the air rush past my cheek. Close. Very close.
When I finally dropped to the ground, Justin let out a sigh of relief.
“No time to rest. We have to keep moving,” I said.
We set out. Hermes, Artemis and Apollo were all limping, leaning on each other and on Demeter and me. Justin carried Sarah, who was still unconscious.
“Where’re we going?” Demeter asked breathlessly, as she shifted under Artemis’s arm.
The transformation had nearly killed Artemis. There’d be no more dragons any time soon.
“I know a place,” Justin offered.
“Lead the way,” I said.
Justin moved into the lead. Sarah lay almost lifeless in his arms. Her hair was streaked with white now. It’d be impossible for anyone, even her, to pretend that her body wasn’t giving out.
Maybe one more day. But Sarah had saved our lives back at the apartment. That alone made her sacrifice worth it. She’d done her part to save existence. We’d remember her for that forever. The rest was up to us.
Justin led us as far from busy streets as possible. We weren’t exactly inconspicuous, bruised and bleeding, dragging ourselves forward, barely able to stand, with Sarah lying unconscious in Justin’s arms.
As I trudged along, I thought about it all. What we’d been through. What we were going to do now. What we still had to face. But even with everything that was going on, my mind always seemed to circle back to Justin.
He was a mystery. Something--someone--I’d never expected. Once a mortal, now something else, something that defied definition, leading a pack of brutalized gods. This was the same boy from the cafeteria. The same boy who’d saved me from Blake. From the giant at the museum. From the garden. From the scorpion-lion. From the pythons. From the fever. He’d stood by me, a complete and total stranger, through untold dangers, and maybe more importantly, through Athena’s death. He’d faced nightmares and monsters with me. And he’d done it all without complaining or asking for anything in return. He’d even sacrificed his sanity for me.
Who was this boy? A boy who acted like no other mortal I’d ever met. Like a . . . god.
A boy who dared to love a god. To love me. Mortals had loved Zeus before. Oh, how they’d loved Zeus. And Aphrodite of course. She had mortals and gods falling at her feet. She and Zeus were used to that. They were practically addicted to it.
But not me. No mortal had ever loved me before. There was no reason to. I wasn’t interested in a brief, passionate fling. I had other matters to attend to. And unlike some gods, I didn’t love at the drop of a hat. My love was immoveable. Unshakeable. Permanent as the Heavens themselves. My love was real. My love was actually worth something.
Justin was infatuated with me. That had to be it. That’s all it was. An infatuation. I was just a distraction. Someone new. Someone different than anyone he’d ever met before. That explained it.
Best of all, he’d get over it. In time. Mortals were constantly falling in and out of love, liking someone one day, hating them the next. It didn’t seem to matter that much to them.
Justin wasn’t in love with me. He just thought he was.
The thought was a tremendous relief. It made everything simple again. I’d been worrying about nothing. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d been worrying. It was such a stupid thing to worry about anyway. So he had a little crush. Big deal. I mean, when I thought about it, it didn’t really have anything to do with me. It was really about him. So I didn’t need to do anything about it. Or think about it. Or worry. It’d go away, all on its own. And then things could go back to the way they were. The way they were meant to be.
And yet . . .
It was hard not to wonder. I’d never had a choice before. Not about this. How happy was I really? How many chances would I get to change my life?
I shook myself.
I just had to stay focused. There was too much at stake to be distracted by stupid things that didn’t matter and weren’t even real in the first place.
But it wasn’t easy. It was all Justin’s fault. It was the way he kept looking at me. Like every time he saw me, he was seeing me for the first time. That was what was to blame for all this. Those big, brown, stupid eyes. Always looking. Always adoring. Like, one day, they’d wear me down and I’d actually love him back.
Which I couldn’t obviously. I was married. Unhappily. Very unhappily. To a husband who cheated as often and easily as mortals breathed oxygen. But that didn’t matter. This was about me. I was better than that. I was better than him.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about this. There was no reason to. If Justin would just stop looking at me for a second, I could actually focus. I could start thinking about something important for a change.
But he was always looking. With those eyes.
Something was wrong. With me. I wasn’t like this. I was a rock. An anchor. I measured everything else from the unerring centre that was me. But I had the sneaking suspicion that my anchor was shifting when I wasn’t looking. It was this mortal body. It was confusing me.
“We’re here,” Justin said, interrupting my thoughts.
I blushed, and I didn’t know why.
We stood in front of a house. Unremarkable, even by mortal standards. There was a weathered “For Sale” sign on the lawn.
“You live here?” Demeter asked.
“I did,” he said. He laid Sarah gently on the lawn and headed for the door. “Before my dad split and my mom had to sell the place.”
“No one lives here now?” Artemis asked.
“Nope,” Justin said, as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. It creaked open. “It’s been for sale for years.”
Justin picked up Sarah again and led us inside. Demeter shut the door behind us. Apollo guided Hermes to a couch, where he sat down heavily. Wobbling, Apollo knelt beside him, and soon his gentle glow lit up the room. The walk couldn’t have given Apollo much rest. He was straining his powers too hard. He was going to burn out.
We all were.
“Downstairs,” Justin suggested. “The basement has a small window. We can sneak out if we have to.”
Her
mes, now fully healed, helped Apollo to his feet and headed down the stairs. Justin followed with Sarah, and Demeter, Beth, and I trailed after them.
“Artemis?” I asked, as she passed by the stairs instead of heading to the basement.
“One sec,” she replied.
When she joined the rest of us in the basement, she was carrying a bundle of some kind. Still weak, she sat down heavily, and then she unrolled a towel full of kitchen knives.
She looked at me and shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”
But looking around, I knew we wouldn’t survive another battle, armed or not.
“When can we begin the spell?” I asked.
As exhausted as we were, we couldn’t afford having the enemy find us. We needed to protect ourselves the only way we had left: by hiding.
“We have to wait for Sarah to recover,” Apollo said.
He was sitting beside her, but there was nothing he could do. His powers were spent, and even if they weren’t, she was simply exhausted. The only remedy for that was time. The one thing we couldn’t spare.
“I’ll patrol,” Artemis offered.
“You need to rest,” I said.
“I can do both,” she replied. “I’m a light sleeper. And we’ll need plenty of warning when the enemy comes.”
When. She was right. There was no reason our enemy would’ve stopped spying on us now. They had to know where we were. The only questions were when they’d come for us and what they’d send to finish us off.
“If you spot anything, just warn us and escape,” I said. “We can meet up at the school later.”
Artemis tensed. It wasn’t in her nature to run or to leave anyone behind. But she wouldn’t argue. I was still her queen. Of all of us, she’d changed the least since coming to the mortal world. Mortality didn’t seem to affect her somehow. I envied that. That had been me once. That should still have been me.
Justin stood. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. When Artemis gave him a castigating look, he raised his hands defensively. “We need something to eat. I’ll go pick something up.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I grumbled, after he and Artemis left.
Hera, Queen of Gods (Goddess Unbound) Page 23
